The Night that Never Ends
by A-World-About-To-Dawn
Summary: After Cosette left the inn, Eponine had the world pulled out from under her feet, and the Parisian streets wouldn't let her get back up. Follows Eponine's life after the inn after Cosette left. (Possible EE or EM leave a review with your choice)
1. Chapter 1

**Wow this took like a month to write...i just couldn't get started. This is my FIRST ever fanfic, so it will probaly suck. This is rated T cause I dont know how to rate this, though there is no language so far.**

**Disclaimer: For a lack of a witty one, I just dont own Les Mis**

"Come Cosette, we must go." The strange man led Cosette out of the inn, her petite yet rough hand clutching the porcelain doll that the man gave her. Eponine scowled in envy as she watched her retreating figure, gripping her own doll tighter. The doll that was in Eponine's smooth, white hand had ragged yarn hair and a smudged fabric dress that paled in comparison to the candy floss locks and satin gown that decorated Cosette's little china figurine.

Eponine sniffed. She would still be richer than Cosette. Fifteen hundred francs! That was enough to but her thirty little statuettes that would be much prettier than the rag of a playtoy Cosette just received.

"Eleanor! Get some beers, will you? We need to celebrate." Her father cackled in glee as he stroked the stack of money in his hand. Eponine wrinkled her nose at the thought of 'alcohol.' Last time her father drank to much of it, Cosette was been unable to move for 2 days. Even though she hated Cosette, it was quite horrific to watch.

Eponine sat at the top of the rickety old stairs in the inn, peering down to see her father knocking back on the smelly, dark liquid. Eponine grimaced again, scrunching her pale, petite face and smoothing out the folds of her fuschia dress.

"Eponine...Eponine." Eponine looked back to see her younger sister Azelma at her shoulder, her chocolate pigtails that were tied with rose coloured ribbons bouncing as she cocked her head inquisitively to one side. "Eppy, where did Cosette go?" She was younger than Eponine by a three years, where as Eponine was nine and Azelma was six. They had a younger brother who had run away recently , but was one year younger than Azelma.(**AN: I know Gavroche ran away in Paris, but for the sake of this story lets say he fled in Montfermeil.**)

"I don't some stranger that probably will beat her worse than we did." Eponine answered haughtily, sticking her nose up in the air and flipping her dark, glossy curls over her shoulder. "Come now Azelma, lets go dress up Elizabeth." Eponine said, referring to the doll that she held in her hand.

Eponine pulled Azelma along the hallway of flimsy wooden doors that kept the inn patrons, giggling softly at the moans that came from some of the rooms. The floor along the sides were riddled with mouseholes, and dust collected thickly on every available ledge. Monsieur Thenardier was too cheap to buy a maid, and Madame always occupied Cosette on more strenuous labor than dusting.

She led Azelma into the small room at the top of the inn that she shared with her, throwing the doll on the bed. Eponine dug out some roughly cut fabric dresses from under her pillow, tossing them to Azelma.

A loud crash resounded downstairs, echoing through the inn. Both sisters froze, staring out of their room in apprehension, as if they expected a robber to come barreling down the hall, before hurrying down to the top of the stairs. Glass from a bottle was strewn over the floor, catching the sunset light and glittering like a thousand deadly diamonds.

Eponine's father, Monsieur Thenardier laughed and threw another bottle down, watching as it shattered with a flourish and spewing drops of dark liquid across the hardwood floor. There was a glassy, far away look in his eyes, a look that scared Eponine. It was not a look of sanity.

"Papa!" Azelma shrieked in fear next to Eponine, her eyes wide. Neither sisters had ever seen their father in such a mood.

Thenardier blinked, snapped out of his drunken tirade by Azelma's piercing voice .

"What? You're supposed to be in your room..." His voice was slurred and sloppy. "Nevermind, here come here!" Eponine gripped the rail of the stairs with one hand, silently refusing.

"Come here, girl. Now." Her Papa's voice was dangerous. Eponine involuntarily inched down to the landing.

"There's me girl!" Thenardier grinned messily and shoved a hastily drawn glass of beer towards Eponine. "Drink to our good fortune."

"No!" Eponine recoiled as if stung, pushing the glass away from her in disgust.

"No? Ah well, all the more for me!" He then turned his back on Eponine. She silently slid away towards the rampart to the upstairs, picking up her satin skirts with all the dignity she could muster and hurrying up. Azelma hadn't moved, her fingers white from gripping the handrail so tightly.

A sick, retching sound followed behind her as her feet slapped against the uneven paneling. She didn't dare look behind her, but instead grabbed Azelma by her shoulder and pushed her along the narrow corridor. Before they got far, a sour smell hit her senses.

"Euuyuk!" Azelma made a face. Eponine glared at her sister.

"Be quiet 'Zelma." Eponine ushered Azelma into the tiny attic room that was their room and shut the door, not wanting to be near her Papa anymore.

A long, thin slice of the last sunlight of the day shone through the window, illuminating the floor with a molten gold light. Eponine sat in silence for a few minutes watching the bit of light disappear. Azelma toyed around with the doll, throwing scraps around and finger combing it's tangled hair. Eponie bit her lip as another vomiting noise offended her senses. She screwed up her petite, pale face in distaste, then wondered who would clean that up. Cosette was gone...No matter. Maman would do it.

* * *

"Eponine! Get down here and clean up this mess!" Eponine blinked open her brilliant green eyes in confusion. The fog of sleep blurred her thoughts. A mess? That was Cosette's job! A bleary thought registered in Eponine's mind, that was gone, gone away with an odd man.

_Do they really expect me to lower myself to her level and clean. I think not! _Eponine was outraged, and simply shut her eyes against the morning sun that poured in the window.

"Eponine! Get your sorry hide down here!" Eponine opened one eye again, quite annoyed. She sat up, throwing a perfectly ironed dress over her shift, and running to the landing.

Monsieur Thenardier was at the door, his murky grey eyes silently fuming. The glass from last night was still covering the worn floor, and in some places the wooden planks were thinly layered by chunky yellow substance. The odor was disgusting and rank.

"Get down here girl, and wash this up! Did you expect that I would do it?"

"Papa! I'm not Cosette, and I _will not_ clean like her!" Eponine stated superiorly as she scrambled down the last of the steps, carefully avoiding the spots of messy liquid, and faced her father square in the eye.

"I will not lower myself to her level. I am a lady, maman says so!" Her voice was proud and cold, but taut with anger, as if she were going to have a fit.

"Stupid girl, the inn patrons will wake soon. Do they want to see this mess? And if they do, we'll lose money. And if we lose money...well, we will have to turn you out to the streets, wouldn't we?" Thenardier leaned down into Eponine's face, breathing hot, stale breath onto her face. It reeked of beer and vomit. Eponine leaned back. She was immensely confused. Papa didn't talk this way to her. He only threatened Cosette.

"Listen. you will take a mop, and you _will _clean up this mess. Got it?" His voice had a steely, dangerous quality to it.

Eponine bit her lip, nodding her pretty head ever so slightly, frightened into submission. Her father thrust a gray, old mop and bucket into her hand.

"Clean."

* * *

"Eponine!"

Her mothers voice cut through the ruckus of the noisy inn. Eponine grimaced, tracing her now rough hands with her fingers, calloused from the work she was unused to. It had been nearly 4 months since Cosette left, and she had assumed the maid role around the inn, but she was never hit.

"Eponine!"

Eponine clutched the worn bedpost for support, hauling herself off of the cornflower blue comforter to the polished floor of her room. Her normally pale complexion was ruddy from days working outside. Her bare feet skid across the empty hall as Eponine flew down the stairs. Already the inn was saturated with the smell of alcohol, surprisingly heavy for so early in the morning.

Eponine's mother grabbed her with a beefy hand. "I thought I told you to scrub the inn tables!" Her voice was threateningly sweet.

"I did Maman! I did! Until they all came down!" Eponine pouted, gesturing to the crowd behind her. Months of working did little to deflate her attitude.

Madame Thenardier was already in a bad mood, due to a particular arrogant customer who refused to pay, and this little spat was doing nothing to improve it.

"Obviously its not clean. You're worse than Cosette. At least she actually _cleaned_ without complaining." Madame muttered, glaring at Eponine.

Eponine swelled indignantly at the mention of Cosette. "If you liked her so much, go buy her back and sell me to that man so I can get pretty dolls as well." Her childish voice was petty and self centered.

"Listen 'Ponine, you're living under your fathers and mines roof, eating our food, using our money. We could easily turn you into another Cosette, or turn you out to the streets. I don't know why we didn't ask for that man to take you as well, you're more trouble than its worth. We're already thinking about turning you out to the streets." Madame Thenardiers words were laced with venom.

Eponine was taken aback. He maman hadn't threatened her like this before. Almost instantly, the shock turned to rage. She stood up as tall as she could, which was not very tall compared to her ox of a mother. Her cheeks flushed in childlike rage.

"You make me do all this work, clean up all this mess, wipe down the tables, when you should be cleaning it up! Its your inn! I'm not your slave, i'm your daughter!" Her shrill anger fit suddenly died as Madame Thenardier grabbed the front of Eponine's now slightly old and torn dress.

Eponine heard the slap before she felt it. A sharp, clean snap tore through the air as her maman's thick hand connected with Eponine's red face.

Eponine stared at her maman in shock for a few seconds, her face blank. Then came a torrent of pain, not just from the slap, but from the emotional agony of registering that your own parent slapped you.

Her emerald eyes widened in fear, and her hand instinctively went to her already swelling cheek. Eponine's stance shifted, now in more of a cowering, defensive position than she was a moment before.

"Go and finish the tables." Madame Thenardier threat was icy and poisonous. Eponine scurried away, still clutching the stinging side of her face.

* * *

Eponine curled up on the lumpy mattress that was her bed, the drafts from the sweeping over her exposed shoulders. Her parents moved her her and her sister down to the cellar in an attempt to "save space." Her small hand gingerly fingered her bruised eye, swollen shut. Monsieur Thenardier had no trouble in following Madames example, beating Eponine at every tiny chance, each time getting rougher, now up to at least three kicks and five slaps each offense.

After a while, Azelma started to receive slaps as well. Simple, compared to Eponine's fare, but Azelma was younger, and should not have been exposed to this abuse. She would come bawling from upstairs, head buried in her arms. Eponine would comfort her and hold her, whisper that it was going to be better. She didn't believe herself.

Today, Azelma spilled ale on the floor while trying to serve some particularly high paying customers. Papa took her into the back room and began to litter her skinny frame with kicks. Eponine stepped in there, trying to convince her papa to stop, to leave Azalma alone.

_See how well that turned out. _Eponine scoffed to herself, as she held the damaged eye that was the consequence of her prior actions that day.

Eponine hunched her thin body and shivered, holding her fingers to her temples, a gesture mature beyond her nine, almost ten years.

"_We have no more money, you idiot! No more money to keep the inn. We'll have to leave." _Eponine lifted her head as her mother's voice echoed from upstairs, in the now deserted inn common room. _Leave?_

"_Shut up! We can make it. If not we can drop the two nuisances." _A familiar clinking followed her fathers rough growl. The noise of a beer bottle. It was becoming a _very _common sound in the inn.

"_60 francs left! Thats not enough to support this inn for another week!" _

"_Then we'll look to the brats for help." _The last sentence was menacing but low, so low that Eponine didn't hear all of it.

Eponine shuddered. 60 francs left? Out of 1,500? Her palms grew clammy with cold sweat. Drop the two nuisances? She assumed that the nuisances were her and Azelma.

"_Sometime or another we'll have to move. To Paris." _Madame Thenardier snapped in a harsh whisper.

_Moving to Paris?_

* * *

Eponine clutched Azelma's hand, her eyes dull with disbelief as the truth set in. A white covered wagon leaned precariously to the left as her father harnessed an old mule to the unevenly stacked caravan. The windows of the _Sergeant of Waterloo _ were boarded up with roughly cut planks of plywood.

_We're leaving. _The single thought circulated through Eponine's mind. Azelma held Elizabeth, the fabric that formed her face now faded, the once neat dress now torn, tightly to her chest, as if it were her last personal item in the world. It probably was.

Eponine herself was clothed in grey chemise and ragged skirt. Madame and Monsieur Thenardier sold every last bit of finery and luxury items, except for a spare few such as Elizabeth and her mother wedding ring, to get enough francs to buy a wagon and mule. A few chairs and bits of furniture made up the contents of the wagon, along with a wardrobe that contained the few rich possessions they kept. The rest of the caravan was taken up by beer and some other shady items.

"Eponine, where are we going to stay?" Azelma's childish whimper drew Eponine's attention. They had long ceased to seek comfort in their parents, and instead found solace in each other.

_I don't know. _Eponine instead forced a cheerful lilt to her answer. "We're going to stay in a nice little inn until we have money to buy a nice, neat flat." Eponine desperately wished she could believe herself.

Azelma, however, was momentarily satisfied, and slumped against her sister.

"Girls! Hurry up and get your bratty behinds down here!" At their mamans sharp and unwelcome call, both sisters turned and walked over to the wagon, ready to get in. Eponine hoisted her sister up, placing her foot in the crack of the steps.

"What do you think you're doing?" Madame Thenardier appeared above them, already in the covered cab. She roughly shoved Azelma back down the steps and sent Eponine staggering backwards with a slap. "Do you think there would be room in here for you? No, you are walking, you urchins."

Eponine silently stared up at her mother, her gaze lit with defiance and a touch of pleading as she tried to mount the steps again. Her maman met the glare with a furious one, sending Eponine reeling again with another slap, this time accompanied with a kick.

Eponine doubled over, holding her stomach. She grabbed Azelma's hand, fury bubbling up in her. _How dare our mother refuse us the right to ride in an obviously spacious wagon!_ Those inner thoughts were suppressed as Eponine turned away from her mother.

"Come on 'Zelma, we'll walk." She said this with an air of this decision being the best idea in the world, that it was going to make everything better.

_In Paris, we _will _have a better life._ She thought determinedly. Yet as she stared after the retreating wagon that both sisters slogged after, she felt her hope for a new life already shrinking.

**Reviews will help me get inspired :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so I decided to update this, despite 0 reviews :(. Oh well. Advice anyone?**

**Leave a review for EE or EM, your choice**

**I DONT OWN LES MIZZIE**

* * *

Eponine tripped over her own boots for what seemed like the 20th time that hour. Exhaustion pulled at her feet, and weariness weighed down her eyes. Azelma was leaning most of her weight on Eponine's side, making her walk in an unbalanced line. In front of them, the wagon rattled over the rough cobblestones, shuddering and groaning. This was the, what, 5th day of walking?

"They said they would meet us...here!" Monsieur Thenardier exclaimed triumphantly from the front of the wagon, his words carried by the wind back to the sisters ears.

"'Zelma. We're here." Eponine nudged her sister, pushing her upright but still holding her tiny hand.

Azelma blinked in relief, her blue eyes fogged over with tiredness. "Where're we staying?" Azelma asked quietly.

Eponine looked up. The house they stopped in front of seemed...well, abandoned. It had dingy walls, slightly leaned, and one smeared, cracked window. The door hung ajar and it was stained with a deep red liquid. The dilapidated second floor was broken and sagging.

Azelma didn't need her answer. She was staring at the derelict building with dismay etched across her heart-shaped face."There?" She whispered, her voice strained with disbelief.

"Girls! Get the wagon unpacked." Eponine turned to glare at her mother. Were they going to be using any of the items Monsieur and Madame brought? Nah, they could sleep on floor.

_In this case, there might not be a floor. _Eponine thought bitterly to herself, casting a glance at the 'house.'

Eponine turned and forced herself over to her maman, still glaring. Madame Thenardier grinned mirthlessly and shoved a heavy chair towards her. "I don't suppose you'll help?" Eponine hissed through gritted teeth. She had come to despise her parents in a short amount of time, and the hate unusual for one so young. Her maman didn't say anything, but that was an answer in itself.

The gray sky set a dull background perfect for the scenario. Will-o-wisps of fog curled in writhing tendrils across the tops of the roofs, some tiles, some soggy wood. Eponine panted in the cold air, puffs of steam rising from her mouth, as she struggled to push a table towards the place they were supposed to be staying.

Azelma attempted to help, bracing her hands against the wood, but Eponine shooed her away. "I'm good. Go explore our home."Her tone was strained with the effort of unloading. Her threadbare boots clicked against the road as she heaved the table inside.

After catching her breath, Eponine lifted her clouded green gaze to survey the interior or the deteriorating inn. She sighed in disapproval. The inside of the hovel was no better than the outside, with a few broken lamps that flickered in the draft that blew through the run-down shack, and the more stains on the once polished wood floors. The guttering light that came from the lamps illuminated the room in a sickly yellow glow. Cracks were apparent in the dirt encrusted walls.

Azelma was also inside, taking in the surroundings carefully. Eponine opened her mouth to say something to Azelma, but she had run to the base of the rickety stair. Azelma tested the first step, then decided it was trustworthy and bounded up the steps. A sagging plank in the middle of the stairs caught Eponine's eye. "Azelma don't step the-" Eponine panicked warning was cut off my a shriek from Azelma.

"'Ponine! Help!" Azelma squeaked in fear, her voice tight and ragged as rising terror paralyzed her. Her foot had gone clean through the step and tripped her, resulting now that her foot was stuck in the plank while her body was hanging off the stairs halfway up. "Eponine!"

Eponine fought down horror and sprinted across the small room her feet slapping against the floor. She hesitated at the steps, but remembered Azelma was able to get that far. She scrambled up the uneven stairs, reaching Azelma.

Eponine grimaced. Azelma's foot was twisted grotesquely, her ankle already swollen. Eponine leaned over the side, straining her muscles. Her back arched and her calloused hand grabbed 'Zelma's shoulder.

"Hold on!" Eponine grit her teeth and pulled Azelma back onto the stairs, ignoring the searing pain in her own shoulder. Azelma howled in response as a spasm of pain coursed up her awkwardly bent leg. The pitted wood creaked and groaned in the effort of holding the two sisters up.

Eponine gasped for breath, holding Azelma tight against her chest. Azelma whimpered and moaned, crying into Eponine's chemise. Her foot was still in the board, and for that Eponine carefully reached over, grabbing the red flesh and carefully extracting the foot, inspecting it. There seemed to be no break, only a sprain.

_But what do I know about medical stuff?_ Eponine scoffed to herself. Azelma clung to her skirt, her dark hair usually so neat in disarray. Eponine looped her skinny arm around Azelma's shoulder, leading down the stairs and let her sit on the lone chair in the inn. There seemed to be no one else in the building, for there was no signs of life, and dust had settled across the counters. Azelma sank into the grimy chair in a flurry of tattered skirts, her blue eyes leaking tears. Her teeth were tightly clenched down on a bloodless lip, her face pale from strain.

Eponine whispered soothing words to 'Zelma while she looked at the foot. A soon as her fingers ghosted over the swollen lump, Azelma stifled a gasp and retracted her foot. Eponine knit her eyebrows in concern. Seeing Azelma like this plucked at her heartstrings.

"Girls! What're doing?" Monsieur Thenardiers gruff voice cut through the thick air. His tone made it clear for them to be perfect, one that he usually used when rich patrons came to the inn.

Eponine swiftly yanked Azelma out of the chair, as gently as you can and still attributing to the word 'yanked.' Azelma squeaked but recognized the urgency and clapped a hand over her own mouth. The sisters stood by the side of the room, silent.

"And here my girls are! 'Ponine, 'Zelma, this is the Patron Minette." Monsieur Thenardier led in a group of strange men, mismatched. One was a bear, dim eyes of a fish matched with the complexion of a lion. Another almost wasn't there, blending perfectly into the shadows.

Eponine glared at them, holding Azelma tightly. They seemed like her fathers type, which is to say, not good.

Thenardier continued to talk animatedly with them. One man, hardly more than a boy, caught her eye. He was handsome, no doubt, but in a greasy sort of way. Defined profile, sandy hair, hazel eyes. The eyes shifted restlessly, scanning the girls as if they were objects, and assessing the rest of the room as if putting a price on it.

"They'll be assisting us in the...missions...when they come of age." That snapped Eponine away from taking in the men.

_Missions. _That single word had an ominous ring to it. Eponine shuddered involuntarily. She inched away from the group, grabbing the tiny bags that contained Eponine's and Azelma's few possessions and backed up the stairs, carefully avoided the broken step. The stairs led to cramped hallway with two doors leading off to closet sized rooms and a splintered ladder.

"Girls. Your rooms are upstairs in the attic." Her mother's flat, emotionless tone directed the sisters to clamber up the ladder in anxious excitement. Hopefully their room would be better than the rest of the house.

Their almost impossible want was immediately extinguished as they reached the tiny attic room. It was much worse than the rest of the house, if that was possible. Large chunks of wood were missing from the wall, and the floor was uneven and pitted. The ceiling was leaking, and the whole room reeked of mildew and mold.

Eponine could see Azelma trying to suppress her despair. She set down the bag in the driest spot she could find, pushing down a sigh. "Come on, 'Zelma, we can make ourselves at home here!" Her voice was forced and layered with fake cheerfulness.

Yet as the night descended upon the towering spires on the skyline visible through the walls, Eponine knew they couldn't make this place home. She shivered as a draft blasted her face.

_Home is a fairytale place. _She thought bitterly, staring at the slowly appearing stars. She contemplated how her life has changed over the last year. _Cosette, the inn..._ Eponine furrowed her brow on the subject of Cosette.

_Wonder where she is now. Probably in a better place than this._

**Whaddya think? Leave a review with your choice of Enjy or Marius. (Theres no real nickname for Marius. Mary?) PLEASE REVIEW! **


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